AntiSue: The Rich Girl
by tiddlywinx
Summary: Mary Goldwell is a society snob. Of course, she's got her glorious engagement to an Admiral and filthy loads of money to keep her happy. If only one unfortunate event with a certain unfortunate captain hadn't buggered it up. Jack/OC. Anti-Mary Sue. Humor
1. The Setup

_I've started a series unlike anything I've ever read on . What I've tackled is every stupid Mary Sue story I read in POTC stories. My story series will be called "AntiSue" and I will cover everything from girls running away from arranged marriages to opposing female pirate captains. But my characters will be real. They will have flaws. And they will not mess with canon._

_Here you will meet Mary Goldwell, a true upper class snob. This is how an original character would deal with 18th century society._

**Chapter 1**

**The Setup**

Mary Goldwell was a brat.

Every morning Mary awoke to glorious Caribbean sunlight when her maid opened her floral print curtains.

"Good morning, Miss Goldwell," one of them would greet. Mary refused to memorize names. It would mean that she had to acknowledge some level of equality with women who were clearly inferior. She simply called them "maid".

"Maid, I expect breakfast in ten minutes. Send someone up to dress me." The servant girl, Sophia, nodded sheepishly and scampered out of the room.

"Honestly," Mary sighed, "You would think my father could afford a better staff."

Mary gazed out her window at the open water. She hated the sea; it was nasty and made her hair turn to crust. How would she ever find a suitor if she ruined her hair? No, that would not due. Maid, a different one, came in and pulled a long silk dress from Mary's closet. "Will you be attending the ceremony today, Miss?"

"Of course, maid," Mary sneered, "Are you dense? I have to find suitors." _Not that I will have to find them. I am quite stunning in a corset._ Maid tightened the laces of the corset a bit more than necessary. The fabric pinched Mary's back.

"Is this too difficult for you?" Mary snapped, grabbing the laces herself. The stupidity she put up with every day. She believed it a miracle that Maid could even obtain a job. A small bell rang next to her door. Breakfast was ready.

She practiced gliding down the stairs, as every noblewoman should. The smell of eggs wafted from the kitchen and made her mouth water. She found Sophia arranging eggs and soldiers on a plate of fine china.

"I hate eggs."

Sophia looked as if she was going to cry. It was her second week on the job. According to her mistress, she could not do a thing correctly.

"I-I'm terribly sorry," she stuttered, "What w-would you like?"

Mary frowned. "Stop your stuttering, maid. I never eat breakfast. Why would you even bother?" With a ruffle of fabric, Mary was already across the hall and out the front door. Today was spring festival, being the first week in May. Mary shifted uncomfortably in her carriage seat. Lower class riffraff overtook the streets, waving banners in bright colors and shouting improvised limericks. It was utter madness.

The carriage stopped abruptly in front of a large white mansion. As Mary descended, a peacock strutted in front of her. "Oh how marvelous," she whispered in delight. In careful, calculated steps, she trotted around the house and into the courtyard. Women suffocating in tulle and men with enough brocade to decorate a parade float mingled in the garden. Mary smiled. This was her society.

She tipped her perfectly curled head towards a group of leuitenats. Her main conquest, however, was the Admiral himself. He was a tall, lean man with deep brown eyes and hair to match. Mary shuddered in delight at the prospect of marrying a fine man like him. He was pride of the town, and all she wanted to be the shining trophy on his arm.

Too bad a gaggle of twittering idiots was surrounding him at the moment.

Mary took long graceful strides towards him, maintaining a perfect elegance. She stood on the outskirts of the female admirers and simply said, "Oh my! There appears to be a rat under your dress, Janine."

The women erupted in shrieks and scattered like the cowards they were. The Admiral's gaze fell upon her. Excellent.

"Lovely day, wouldn't you say, Admiral?" The words slid off her tongue like sweet honey.

The Admiral allowed a small smirk. "Now that the rodents have cleared the garden, I would say this day is _quite_ lovely."

"I couldn't agree more, sir," she replied.

"Given the good humor of this weather, would you allow me a walk with you around the mansion? I should fancy to see what Governor Grant has installed since my last visit." The Admiral held out his arm. Mary intertwined hers with his, feeling completely at ease.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Her walk with the Admiral had been fantastic. She was clever and coy. Any day she should recieve a marriage proposal or at least an invitation to dinner.

Sure enough, the following Tuesday, Miss Goldwell had a sizable rock attached to her finger.

"Pure gold, aquamarine, and diamond," she gloated at her afternoon tea. The ladies visibily leaned towards the sparkling gems greedily.

"How ever did he propose?" Janine asked snidely. She was still upset over the rat incident.

Mary turned her smug gaze towards the slightly hook nosed girl. "The Admiral talked with my father and then approached me with a bouquet of flowers. You probably saw them on your way in."

"Must have missed them," Janine sniffed.

"No matter," Mary continued, "We are to commit ourselves in the coming months. Father wants to wait until October, when the weather is more fair."

"Do you have a dress yet?" someone squeaked.

There was a long suspenseful silence. Everyone watched Mary pick her nails. "Missus Johnson is designing it."

The room burst into excited whispers. "Betty Johnson. _The_ Betty Johnson."

"Is there any other?" Mary smiled slowly. She couldn't have exuded any more arrogance if she tried. This was the peak of upperclass society and she intended to claim the top of the mountain for herself. Well, maybe she would share it with the Queen of England. Maybe.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_As always, I love reviews._


	2. An Encounter

**Chapter 2**

**An Encounter**

"Now would you like the white and pink roses or the white and pink carnations, Miss Goldwell?" a man asked, displaying two gorgeous table placements before her.

"I want..." Mary decided slowly, "Purple and pale blue irises. Do you see my eyes? What color are they, sir?"

Her wedding planner hesitated. "Blue."

Mary stood up abruptly. "And what colors go best with blue?"

"Purple and blue," he replied. The poor man resisted the urge to take a step back. This bride was quite intimidating.

"Good. You're not so daft after all." Mary pushed the flower pots off the table and watched them with a sick pleasure as they crashed to the floor. "Clean those hideous things up and get me some suitable flower arrangements by tomorrow morning."

"Yes. Of course!" He scooped up the shards of ceramic and scurried out the door.

Mary waved away her staff. Her head hurt from this wedding. There were so many decisions. So much planning. Not to mention, she was living in a world full of idiots.

Mary climbed marble stairs towards her room, exhausted by the day. On her white and blue flowered sheets lay a small peice of parchment. Her name was scrawled in deliciously ornate handwriting across the top. "For me?" she whispered.

_Dearest Mary,_

_I hope you are well. Business has taken me to England for the next few months. I will arrive back with plenty of time for the wedding, rest assured._

_Sincerely,_

_Admiral John F. Cunningham_

Mary refolded the letter and held it to her chest. How lovely of him to give her notice of his leave. She had him snared now. Examining her ring once more, she smiled. A handsome husband. Abundiches. Clothes.

What more could a girl ask for?

******xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**  


The following day, Mary left the house early. She simply couldn't stand being around her incompetent staff and her equally stupid wedding planner. Life was much too stressful.

Dressed in an embroidered stay and a few skirts, Mary decided to take the path through the sugarcane plantations towards the sea. The road wasn't paved, which meant her dress was getting dirty. She would have Maid clean it for her.

The day was bright and clear, not one cloud in the sky. Mary thanked heavens for remembering a parasol. How tragic would it be if her skin turned brown before the wedding? She would look like a common beggar woman! The wind whistled quitely through the fields. Everything was glaringly brighter as the sun moved directly overhead.

Mary continued down the path, humming the tune to a piece she recently learned on the piano. A few children ran in front of her and she screamed at the sight of them. They were so hideously dirty. And their mouths! No teeth in the front, all rotted from too much sugarcane.

They laughed brightly and shot back into the fields like little mice. Mary collected her breath. Then, she screamed again.

There was a man in front of her. Late thirties, red bandana, dark brown hair. He looked homeless. He looked like a pirate. And he hadn't quite noticed Mary.

She froze like a cornered rabbit, clenching her parasol so tightly that her knuckles turned a ferocious shade of white. Mary had never seen a pirate. Would he kill her? Would he steal her ring? Would he, god forbid, _pillage_ her?

The man was suddenly aware and suddenly approaching. "Do you -"

"Get back!" Mary shrieked, brandishing the lace umbrella.

He laughed. "Honestly, love. I was only tryin' to find me way to Kingston."

"Why?" she asked skeptically. Her umbrella quivered.

"Because," he explained and stepped closer, "I intend to meet someone there."

There was a long silence as they stared at each other. Then, the man stared at her ring. It was hard not to. All those gems created a beacon of light streaming from her finger.

"That's a lovely piece you got there," he commented, glancing down at his own jeweled hands, "Mind if I have it?"

"Yes," Mary growled. Her manners had suddenly been replaced by pure fear. "It's my engagement ring."

"To whom?"

"The Admiral," she replied, a bit more lightly. Mary could never step away from boasting.

"And you're name?" he queried.

Mary jabbed the parasol at him. "Can't you just leave me alone, you scoundrel?"

"Scoundrel?" He ripped the umbrella from her hands and threw it into the field. "Now, I wouldn't go callin' people names until you know exactly with whom you are talking."

"So who are you then?" The fear began to leak into her voice.

The man puffed up his chest a bit and announced, "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

Mary sniffed, looking very much like a bug had flown up her impecabbly pointed nose. "I've never heard of you."

That was bullocks. Of course she'd heard of _the_ Captain Jack Sparrow. The man who sacked Nassau without even a shot. The man who bested Davy Jones in an epic battle to save all of piracy. The man who, when mentioned, made the women in the room titter with hidden excitement. Why yes. She had most definitely heard of him.

Jack eyed her. She was one of those women he despised: stupid, shallow, and snobby. Now he wanted to take her ring out of spite, just to teach her a lesson for being a high class wench. "Give me the ring, darling. Or you won't want to be around for what happens if you don't."

She clenched her fists to stop them from shaking, and in a sharp, resolute voice, she said, "No."

******xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**  


Ten minutes later, Mary woke up with a sore head and empty finger. "Th-that dirty bastard!" she screeched, momentarily forgetting her manners, "He stole my ring!"

She let out a furious huff, gathered her skirts, and stormed back towards town. In fact, she stormed straight through town, past the markets, past the common folk she so dreaded to be near, and directly onto the docks.


End file.
